Time After Time
by Caine's Kiss
Summary: This is a future League fic that includes what I presume to be fairly original ideas for a modern League stretching across media. Hopefully you enjoy the first chapter and review it...Please...please...just read it then.
1. The Rogue

_It's a future League story but it's trying to encompass different interpretations of the Future Leagues, I don't own any of the characters  
here. They all belong to their various copyright holders: BBC, Eidos  
Publishing & Twentieth Century Fox Television. The Diogenes Club is the invention of Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle and therefore is the property of the  
Estate of Arthur Conan-Doyle. All feedback is welcome, so please Read and Review, I know it's a future League fic but I have tried to be original and stick to the philosophy of both the film and the comic book.  
_  
Tom Quinn raced across the scrub land, running for the beach. He heard the distant sounds of shouting as the policemen with dogs chased his scent. They were way over the plain but the noises were getting closer. Tom picked up his pace. He reached the shoreline and its beach covered with smooth stones. He stopped looking back over his shoulder. The police were far behind him. He leapt across the embankment, stones crunching loudly beneath his feet. He reached the cold water bounding in as far as his depth. Then he kicked off into a breaststroke, his jacket holding him above water. Distant barking caused a roaring babble of voices in the distance. Tom swam on...  
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The prisoner sat on the bunk across from the official. The official was another bureaucrat with a grey pinstripe suit and briefcase, bowler and umbrella. The prisoner wore a boiler suit and a number; there was no surname. He would not be talking to the other prisoners. He would not talk to the warders. There was food, without cutlery, that was passed through a hatch in the door. This prisoner was too dangerous to be allowed human contact.  
  
The prisoner was interested by the latest diversion, his black beard smiled with civility while his eyes glittered with contempt for this intruder. He gestured to the chair on the desk while he sat on the bunk. The bureaucrat sat down facing his host. They had sat for twenty minutes looking at each other. The prisoner stared into the bureaucrat's eyes while the bureaucrat simply returned his gaze. The bureaucrat coughed and turned his attention to his briefcase with disparaging snort, "When you have quite finished Mr...Master...or do you prefer Rev. Magister or Dr Keller or many other tired uninspired pseudonyms."  
  
The prisoner seemed to shift in his chair uncomfortably, then he looked at his uninvited guest, "I am the Master and you will obey me."  
  
The bureaucrat snorted with derision, "Yes they told me that you would attempt something like this Koschei."  
  
The Master recoiled at the use of his real name, "Who sent you?"  
  
"I am sent by order of the High Council of Time Lords, to issue you with instructions to co-operate with the British Government of Earth in the undertaking of a new grouping of talented individuals that the humans insist on giving the ludicrous epithet: The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. You will be recruited to this group for what reasons Rassilon only knows why. You will accept you will join and then you will be allowed again to roam the galaxy."  
  
"And if I don't." The Master was defiant  
  
"Then you will stay here for the rest of your life-span." The Bureaucrat stated this coldly; the Master knew this as a fact.  
  
"I will do it." The voice seethed with resentment.  
  
"Excellent." The Bureaucrat stood up, placing his hat on his head, picking up his briefcase and placing the umbrella on the crook of his arm. He faded into nothing. There was a knock on the door...  
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The limousine arrived outside the building which the Master recognised as once housing the ancient and respected Diogenes Club. It was a vision in neo-classicism and fascistic overtones, the Master warmed to it immediately, it would make a suitable palace when he ruled this suburban nightmare of a planet. Should he decide not to destroy it on a whim...anyway it made an excellent testing ground for some of his more interesting experiments and the Dæmons had been here, and the Autons, and the Sea Devils came from here. Admittedly he'd brought the mind parasite but the Earth was such a pathetically easy target for destruction and yet it always survived. The Doctor had something to do with it, true, but perhaps it had been something he had missed himself something in the inhabitants. This 'League' might give him the answers he sought about the human race and its persistence.  
  
The chauffeur brought the car to a halt and one of the soldiers beside him had opened the door while the one on the other side moved him out of the car with some persistence. He shuffled along the seat with his hands and feet manacled. Then he slipped out of the door where the soldier was waiting. He grabbed the Master and pulled him onto the kerb. The second soldier stepped out of the car and grabbed his other arm closing the door behind him and the limousine drove away.  
  
They walked up to the stairs into the building. A man in military uniform opened the doors and the Master could see the mosaic floor behind him showing the unsleeping eye of the law. These humans could be naïve sometimes. They walked through, stepping across the mosaic, down a corridor, leading to another pair of double doors this time made of oak. The Master stepped through into a conference room where a gentleman was sitting and a young woman with a long braided ponytail was sitting next to him with a folder out. A folder with his photograph. He smiled a disarming smile, which his beard rearmed. Twenty years of not shaving had made his beard look bushy like an old fashioned pirate, while his cropped streaked hair hung in lumps around his face.  
  
The gentleman at the head of the table reacted with surprise at his new guest and his unkempt condition. "Why is he chained?"  
  
The soldier released him and saluted. The Master chuckled as he rubbed his wrists, "You can't get the staff these days."  
  
"Indeed not, Master, would you sit down and meet your new team mate Lady Lara Croft...?"

To Be Continued...


	2. The Old Hand

_It's a future League story but it's trying to encompass different interpretations of the Future Leagues, I don't own any of the characters  
here. They all belong to their various copyright holders: BBC, Eidos  
Publishing & Twentieth Century Fox Television. The Diogenes Club is the invention of Sir Arthur Conan-Doyle and therefore is the property of the  
Estate of Arthur Conan-Doyle._  
  
Lady Lara Croft looked at the short dark ugly stranger sitting across from her. He seemed to stare into her soul, she shivered and turned to her host.  
  
The Master looked at the human female with utter contempt. He had been saddled like an assistant, like that infantile fop Theta, to humour and entertain. Still she could be useful; no doubt she had some 'extraordinary' ability, not as 'extraordinary' as he did of course.  
  
Their host was a smartly dressed elderly gentleman with a grey grizzled beard and balding head. He smiled when the attention returned to him. "I am Sir Jason King of Her Majesty's British Government, and you," he gestured to Lady Croft, "are Lady Lara Croft, adventuress and archeologist, and you," he gestured to the Master, "are the Master, a former convict and I am assured a current genius."  
  
Lara snorted, "Master of what...breaking and entering?"  
  
The Master chuckled but his eyes stayed cold, "I am the Master of Time."  
  
"Modest too..." Lara sneered  
  
"Modesty is for fools!" The Master snarled in response, "I thought we were supposed to be 'extraordinary'."  
  
"So what's your 'extraordinary' talent, Master? Being an 'extraordinary' pain in the..." Lara was standing over the table looking down at him.  
  
"ENOUGH!" King had a powerful voice for someone so seemingly frail, and the palms of his hands striking the desk merely punctuated the expression. Lara sat down while the Master turned his attention to King mentally vivisecting him..  
  
"You are the first two members of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen, an old order which calls upon individuals with great talent in the name of the safety of the world. Our most famous League was called in 1899. It involved famous individuals that you may recognise such as Mina Harker, Allen Quartermain, Captain Nemo, Doctor Jekyll and Mr Hyde and Hawsley Griffin. Characters who well known in classics of biographical literature."  
  
The Master nodded as if he knew all this. Lara assumed he must have been the greasy swot in school who nobody liked. She voiced her opinion. "I thought those were works of fiction."  
  
King smiled patronisingly, "A common misconception that is made by people who refuse to believe that the world is more fantastic than we give it credit for. I believe the Nautilus is rusting at the bottom of the North Sea and Abraham Van Helsing later went onto become a acting manger after resigning his post at the University of Amsterdam. Your mission is this: a crater in Siberia has recently shown signs of activity. This crater appears from visual information to contain the remains of a pre-Hellenic civilisation that existed in the wastes of the Urals. We believe that this crater is the site of the ancient Illumine Citadel or the City of the Light, the home of an artefact of immeasurable power," The Master looked up suddenly, then returned to flicking through files. King continued, "The Triangle of Light."  
  
"The Triangle? I destroyed it!" Muttered Lara. King was insistent, "None the less, you must investigate the crater with the other members of the League."  
  
"Other members?" Lara wondered aloud.  
  
"You expect us to cross icy wastes deux á deux, I really don't wish to go in guns blazing without proper equipment." The Master raised an eyebrow.  
  
King remained oblivious, "We believe this unwarranted activity is linked to one of our new League members: Thomas Quinn, a former agent of MI5."  
  
"In what way?" Lara asked while the Master found one of the files marked 'Thomas Quinn' and flicked through it without apparent interest in the conversation around him.  
  
King smiled his patronising smile, Lara bridled, she imagined his younger days might have been speent seducing young and naïve women. She was not naïve and in her late twenties she was no blushing maiden either. King continued, "Quinn reported to his colleagues before shooting his boss that he had seen a man he knew to be dead: an agent whose daughter had worked with Quinn. This man has been apparently resurrected and maintained a vendetta against Quinn implicating him as a rogue agent. Therefore we want you recruit him..."  
  
The Master smiled, "You believe that this impromptu rising has something to do with the activity in Siberia?"  
  
"Indeed," said King. "Take the files with you, if you need. I have copies and seeing as they don't exist there shouldn't be any problem." He turned to the Master, "I believe we have something belonging to you." Sir Jason stood up slowly, using a stick to support himself, he hobbled over to a set of double doors behind his chair. Lara and the Master stood up as well, following the elderly King. King stopped just in front of the doors, he clapped and the doors swung open revealing a circular antechamber that was equally decorated in marble and mosaic. In the middle of the room sat a Victorian wardrobe which seemed to hum slightly, the Master smiled, "Our Nautilus, I presume?"  
  
King nodded sagely, "Indeed. It took a good deal of persuasion with UNIT but we managed to secure possession of the capsule." King flourished a silver pendant, "Your key, sir."  
  
"Thank you." The Master said without apparent irony. He took the pendant and wrapped the chain around his wrist. They didn't permit him pockets on his clothing.  
  
He stepped towards the wardrobe and opened the door, "Ms Croft?" He half- turned and held the door open for her to enter  
  
Lara refused vehemently, "Oh God! I am not having a C.S. Lewis moment here!"  
  
"A wardrobe? I think not." The Master turned on his glib charming tones. "This is a time and space vehicle called a TARDIS which can take practically everywhere and everywhen. I assure you, you'll be quite safe with me."  
  
Lara raised one eyebrow, sighed and stepped into another world...

To Be Continued...


End file.
